


Blood Brothers

by Palefire73



Series: Prisoners. The Chronicles of Loki and Erika [24]
Category: Eir - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, odin - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palefire73/pseuds/Palefire73
Summary: Eir goes to Odin to ask to make an important journey, but ends up learning something Odin has kept secret for centuries,





	Blood Brothers

At the sound of a knock on the door, Odin raised his weary eyes and sighed as he pondered upon whether to admit whoever was on the other side. It had been a long day: Tyr had been to see him regarding Thor yet again, Seneschal had burst in to rant about how he felt Frigga’s private study should be left intact as a place for the family to visit in her memory and to demonstrate his displeasure at the fact that no one special had been assigned to keep it in good order, and then there _was_ Thor, who was playing on the All Father’s mind greatly. Much to his frustration, his son was struggling to maintain his usual good cheer and the appearance of dark circles around his eyes, along with definite signs of weight loss, were now becoming so noticeable that a few of the Gods had visited to express their concerns. Odin was torn between his desire to shout at the boy and remind him of just who he was, to tell him to snap out of this melancholy and think of how he was affecting Asgard with his deteriorating state, and one of wanting to simply take him into his arms for a fatherly hug and to tell him that everything was going to be alright.

 

The truth was that Odin was not a heartless God; he was simply willing to be the one that told it how it was, and this had sometimes led to treating his sons rather harshly. Yet Frigga had always been there to pick up the dashed emotions of the boys whenever they had received a dressing down from the King, lending an understanding ear and warm hugs along with her unrivalled wisdom, which would end up meaning that Odin and whichever son was in trouble would eventually see eye-to-eye, even if it was sometimes not openly admitted.

 

Frigga was no longer here though. There were no motherly smiles and kisses to be had, no long walks to give her sons the chance to talk about things and get woes off their chests, no mediator to pour oil on troubled waters. A bitter tear escaped Odin’s eye as he replayed the terrible moment of discovering his Queen had been brutally murdered, realising for about the thousandth time that they had all lost her strength and kindness that day. Thor was struggling not only for the loss of that damned Jotúnn he insisted on calling his brother, but for the loss of the woman he had called his mother too.

 

An uncertain second knock brought Odin out of his melancholic thoughts and he resigned himself to the fact that he was the All Father and that he was never really off duty as the Protector of the Nine. Blotting the errant tear away with a soft cream handkerchief he had taken from Frigga’s dressing table, he cleared his throat.

 

“Enter.”

 

Odin was somewhat surprised to see the Senior Healer, Eir, walk through the door, but then he quickly became worried: was this about Thor? He waved her in and she closed the door before coming to take a seat on the other side of his large desk and Odin had to rein in his impatience as she carefully rearranged her red robes before looking at him and smiling respectfully.

 

“Your Highness.”

“Good evening, Eir. To what do I owe the pleasure of this… rather late visit?” Odin smiled, but Eir could see the concern on his face; Thor was not the only one whose divine powers were losing the battle against worry lines these days.

“I have come to request something of you, Highness. I need to make an important journey, one I have put off for too long.”

“An important journey?” mused Odin, “To where must you go?”

“Rivendell.”

 

Odin could not prevent the wrinkling of his lips as he learned her destination. There was only one reason why the healer must wish to go there: to speak with that girl’s family. There could not be any other. Yet his curiosity got the better of him.

 

“To what end, Eir? What is there for you?”

“Elisabet.”

 

It seemed Eir was not going to attempt to wrap this up in fancy words in an attempt to gain favour and Odin respected her for that. He grew tired of the dancing back and forth that he often had to endure as courtiers and Gods tried to win him over in their blunt attempts at flattery and deception. He smiled patiently.

 

“The girl’s mother?”

“Erika’s mother, yes. I have a message for her.”

“A message… would a Raven not do?” Odin raised his eyebrow questioningly, “Has she not been informed of her daughter’s wish to waste her life protecting the Jotúnn?” A wince on the Healer’s face shamed him for his inability to use the bastard runt’s name, but he held fast. “Surely someone has had the decency to write to her?!” Too late, he realised that it should probably have been something initiated by the Crown, but his stubbornness would not allow him to believe he was wrong to have neglected to do so.

 

“No, Highness, on both counts. In addition, I was asked to carry this message to her personally. It is just unfortunate that I have been so busy of late. There is one other thing…”

“And that is..?”

“I wish to take Thor with…”

“You shall not!”

 

Eir flinched as Odin’s fist banged the wooden desk only inches from where she was sitting. His ice-blue eye glittered at her menacingly and did not leave her as he sat back down in his chair to regard her from a face darkened with anger.

 

“Thor will not be going anywhere near that place,” he said, “he is needed here in Asgard while we go about rebuilding her…”

“Thor is in no fit state to lead anyone at the moment.” Eir’s interruption caught Odin off guard and he found himself unable to admonish her, “Your son is heartbroken! Can you not see that?! He has had no opportunity to come to terms with the losses of his mother and brother…”

“Neither of which were genuinely of his blood…”  
“Odin Borson, how can you be so _cruel_?!” Eir rose from her chair and now it was she who leaned across the desk toward the All Father, incensed by his words, “They were your _family_! Frigga is the reason why you have been a successful King, Thor is of your blood, and Loki was your son no matter what you believe…”

“He was _not_ my son!” roared Odin. “It was a _story_! A front for the truth! Something nice that was for the good of Asgard at the time, and probably not the best decision I have ever made. It is nothing but a thousand year old lie that, in the end, caused more damage than the truth ever would have.”

 

The two of them stared at each other in anger, but each of them was curious as to what the other had to say and eventually Eir lowered herself back into her chair as Odin lowered his head into his hands. His voice was low and only just audible, but his regret was as plain as day.

 

“Loki is not, has never been and shall _never_ be my son. No one knows what I am about to tell you except the Norns. I never even told Frigga, and for some reason Loki seemed to not remember any of this, so I never brought it up with him until the day he learned he was of Jotúnnheimr, although I was often tempted. Why he has chosen not to reveal it and use it against me somehow, I do not know.

 

“When I found him in that ruined temple on Jotúnnheimr, he was all but dead. He was a tiny prematurely born baby out in the terrible cold and despite the genetics of his physical parents, he was losing the battle against the elements. I picked him up, thinking he would make a good hostage and win the war for us against Farbauti, but I was not prepared for what happened next. The events that followed were strange… he changed into the Asgardian you saw when I brought him home, I wrapped him up, the female Jotúnn tried to kill him and we were saved by my soldier.” Odin raised his head and looked at Eir with sadness as he sat back in his chair, “At least that is the bare bones of what happened and all that I told Frigga when I presented her with that baby so long ago, but it is not all. My soldier turned away to lead us back and that is when things became odd. The seconds dragged out and Loki and I seemed to be existing outside of time… the soldier was in mid-stride and moving, but incredibly slowly compared to us and I could not understand it. Until Loki spoke to me. What happened there could have gone on to be something quite extraordinary, and I had high hopes that it would, but we do not always get what we desire, do we?

 

“He had reacted to my touch when I first picked him up in the temple. He was blue skinned, red-eyed, and had scars similar to those of adult Jotnár, which I was surprised to see, as I had always thought they were ritualistic, not genetic. But then he changed as I have mentioned and as I looked down at the dead Jotúnn female, I realised that the scars on her face were exactly the same as those I had seen on Loki’s face when I had first found him.” Odin squinted at Eir, “Are you aware that no two Jotnár have the same scars? They _are_ ritualistic. Loki had taken on her appearance, because she had taken him to that temple to die and she was the last person he saw before I came along. He is a shapeshifter, Eir and he was mimicking anyone he saw. He was just hours old and did not know how to control the physical body he was in… because he is a Spirit of Chaos! He crossed the river of Dreams and ended up in the body of a child being born prematurely and that is why it had not died: it was possessed by the strength of the Spirit Loki!”

 

Odin fell silent, as if finally revealing what had truly happened was exhausting him.

 

“You said he spoke to you?”

“He did.”

“What did he say? How was it that he could talk?”

 

“He spoke in my mind. All the years I’d had of defence training against intrusion of the Royal Mind and he got straight in there. He simply said ‘Greetings Wanderer’.”

 

Odin opened a door in his desk and pulled out two crystal goblets and a bottle of Asgardian Fire Mead. Eir nodded as he poured two drinks and passed one to her. He smiled and took a sip before wincing at the heat of the spicy liquid and smacking his lips appreciatively, “This is thirsty work…”

 

“I looked at the soldier, but he was still mid-stride and barely moving, and then I looked down at the baby I was carrying, only to almost drop him. It was his eyes, Eir, they were so strange. They were not red, they were not blue, but they were of fire… bright, blazing fire, and his face, although that of a baby, appeared older somehow, and full of experience. It was a shock, I can tell you…”

“I can imagine…”

“Yet you cannot. You have never seen the like!”

“Sire, I have seen some of what you describe. You must know that I am held in confidence to almost everyone in the Palace, including Loki. I have seen just about everything he is made up of over the centuries, a lot of which I am quite sure he does not know about or remember showing me.”

“Very well, but this was a complete surprise to me. Within only minutes of discovering what I thought to be a Jotúnn baby, I was being told I was in the presence of a raw Chaotic Spirit newly born into the Known Worlds. He had escaped Surtr and was aware of the consequences, yet within seconds I realised that I had an incredibly precious thing in my hands and, almost to my shame now, I decided to trap him here to use to my own ends. I was a lot younger then, and my ambition was not tempered with as much wisdom as I hope it is now. I made a bargain with him: I would protect him and show him the ways of the Known Worlds, but only if he would become my brother. And so we shared blood and spoke oaths of hearth and home before he shifted back into the guise of a tiny Asgardian baby and the passage of time returned to normal. We defeated Jotúnnheimr, I gained a hostage… and Frigga? Well, Frigga gained another son.” Odin sighed, “So you see, Eir, Loki was never my _son_ , but he was… and is… my brother.” He nodded resolutely at her then, “And that is why I will not allow you to take my true son away from Asgard… from me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during my lunch break today and then I saw Endgame this evening.  
> I am publishing this in honour of Loki and His gift to me of being able to write again, and of the thousands of people who have brought Marvel's versions of these amazing Gods to life on screen.
> 
> This is another step along the path to aligning my writing - which was very Marvel inspired at first - more in the direction of the Norse lore. It is where my heart lies and I really would like to do them justice by incorporating more of the truth.
> 
> I hope you like it!


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